


V's Pet Shop (of Horrors)

by olosta



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pet Shop of Horrors, Gen, Humor, Investigative Journalism, Journalist Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Mystery, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Non-graphic depiction of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 16:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12915642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olosta/pseuds/olosta
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is a journalist working for an English newspaper in Tokyo, pursuing his dream of becoming an investigative journalist on the side. However, his investigation of the corruption and other shady business of the Tokyo political scene is thrown into turmoil by a bizzare accident. Yuuri follows the lead to a Russian pet shop that had recently opened in Shinjuku, as he is convinced that it's somehow connected to his case. Enter its mysterious owner, count V!





	V's Pet Shop (of Horrors)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saniika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saniika/gifts).



> I've had this idea sitting in my head for a while now, although I've never found the courage to write it down. But as a possible cross-over with Pet Shop of Horrors (one of my most favourite mangas) has never left my mind, I've finally given in.
> 
> The skaters who are journalists have their age bumped up to around 24-25, all the others remain the same (more or less). English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes. Beta-ed by the amazing Marina!
> 
> This chapter comes with an illustration (you'll find the link at the end).

Yuuri panted as he run down the streets of Roppongi. Or should he say up? The mild slope was starting to feel like a mountain slope. He groaned internally; he really shouldn’t have neglected his daily run, but he had had so many things on his mind lately and as a consequence, his stamina and his midriff suffered. He skidded to a sudden stop as he rounded the corner.

Wheezing, Yuri bowed and propped his elbows on his knees. His frantic run built up a bit of sweat; he pulled off his glasses before they slipped off his nose and hastily wiped his face on the sleeve of his jacket. It was mid-may, but the weather was unusually cool for this time of the year. The cold spell had been lasting more or less continuously since early April; it had even pushed back the hanami by a week or so.

By now, all the cherry petals had long had fallen, the festive atmosphere long since dissipated under the oppressive, steel skies. The air was thick, strung high with tension, the gloomy daylight pulsing with blinking red lights from the ambulance and several police cars parked haphazardly around the villa that was the destination of Yuuir’s frantic run.

The panic he had felt when he’d received his informant’s distressed call earlier in the morning rose in his throat again, which didn’t help either. Yuuri was just out of the bed, absent-mindedly waiting until his tea had cooled down enough to drink, when the housekeeper Katou-san called. Her news was a hard blow for Yuuri’s investigation. Why did this have to happen?! Why? Why now? Couldn’t whoever had had a grudge against assemblyman Shimizu wait a couple of months or at least weeks before he killed the politician? After Yuuri had exposed him and proved that he was capable of becoming a serious journalist, and that investigative journalism wasn’t dead yet? But no, of course not. Yuuri was condemned forever to stay a dime-a-dozen scribbler writing local gossip, to be met with ridicule whenever he mentioned his ambitions.

After he finally managed to calm down a bit, he approached the cordoned-off area. It was then he noticed the Special Investigation Team cars; his last hope that the housekeeper might have been mistaken was crushed. If the SIT was there, then it had to be a serious crime, like murder. And when he was able to think about it rationally, he realized that the murder probably wasn’t an accident, but that it could very well be connected with the corruption case Yuuri was trying to expose. He needed to get as close to the scene of murder as possible. Only, how to do it? The area seemed to be tightly monitored; there were police officers standing watch to keep out the gradually increasing crowd of onlookers.

Oh hell, Yuuri internally groaned when he spied a tall young man with an undercut exit a car that had stopped nearby. If that was not that Canadian journalist, Leroy from Asagao! How did he get here so quickly?

But the man had only been the beginning. Soon, paparazzi from tabloids started to trickle in like vultures attracted by the smell of death, until there was a veritable crowd of them in front of the villa. They craned their necks and flashed their cameras at the impassive faces of the police officers. Some of them tried to negotiate with the police to no avail, while Yuuri was assessing the situation and breaking his head about how to get inside. He was getting desperate, when he noticed a man in a brown trench-coat exit the villa and move towards the loud bunch of journalists.

“Morooka-san! Hey, Morooka-san!”

Several other journalists started at his outcry, as well as the detective in question.

“Katsuki-san!”

He beckoned to one of the officers to let Yuuri in, which was followed by an outrageous cry of the others. Tough luck, thought Yuuri, smirking. Finally he could use his contact, and use him he intended.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri-kun,” said Morooka as soon as Yuuri was close enough so that the detective wouldn’t have to shout. “This will set your investigation back quite a bit, won’t it?”

  
Yuuri winced – Morooka was right. He had finally been promised a personal interview by the victim, Shimizu-san himself. He was also starting to gain the trust of some of the other staff in the house thanks to the housekeeper, Katou-san, who was his inside informant. But the man that was the centre of the case was dead, and who knew whether the staff would be willing to talk to Yuuri now. Perhaps after some time, but time was of the essence here. There was still his wife and daughter, Yuuri supposed, but he doubted it was a good idea to trouble them with inquiries of fiscal and political nature when their spouse and father was dead.

Although, perhaps there was something positive in the incident. “Yes, it’s a set-back. But, I mean, when you find the person who had murdered him, it could help...”

Yuuri stopped speaking when he saw the detective made a strange grimace. “About that, Yuuri-kun...”

He took Yuuri’s elbow and towed him inside the villa, into the opulent western-style entrance with an asymmetrically streaked marble floor and a massive gold chandelier. Shimizu-san really had to hd to be loaded if he could afford such a large, free standing residence in the middle of Tokyo.

As soon as they entered, Yuuri noticed a strange smell linger in the air, like incense, only the scent had a certain exotic quality that Yuuri couldn’t recall smelling before. He bit back a remark on it when an officer, who was picking up something from the floor with gloved hands and putting it into a bag, scowled at Yuuri, clearly regarding him as an intruder. Yuuri ducked his head between his shoulders and tried to look as small and unnoticeable as possible.

Morooka’s voice caught his attention. “I’m afraid it won’t be any help.”

Just then Yuuri’s eyes went wide as he realized that what he thought was streaked marble was in reality splattered blood. It started at the foot of the stairs and trailed up in droplets until it disappeared into the dark corridor of the first floor. “Oh my god.” Yuuri closed his eyes, fighting a mild bout of nausea.

Morooka cleared his throat, manhandling Yuuri into the next room, a spacious kitchen. “I’m sorry you had to see it.”

“What... who would… ” Yuuri stuttered and gulped heavily.

“Well, the thing is, we’re not sure it was a murder, more like the victim’s own stupidity. Or, if it was a murder, it was cleverly thought out.”

Yuuri just gaped at the detective, not computing. Morooka sighed.

“Shimizu-san was found in his bedroom by the housekeeper this morning, but he was attacked down here. The body was still warm when Katou-san found it. He was... erm... torn to ribbons by some kind of beast.”

“Beast?” Yuuri still had trouble catching up.

“Literally a beast. An animal, with fangs and claws. It didn’t eat anything – you sure you don’t want to sit down? – just killed him and fled, probably. The SIT team is investigating the scene and so far they didn’t find any human intruder. But we have to wait for a specialist to tell exactly what kind of animal it was.

“It’s not in the house anymore, and we’ve sent out a team to search the gardens and the vicinity. As it’s probably something larger, it could have wandered quite far away from here by now. Especially if it was still dark. And that’s all I can tell you for now,” detective Morooka finished, giving Yuuri an apologetic look.

Yuuri nodded dumbly, processing all he’d heard.

“Shimizu-san was alone in his house yesterday and during the night. His wife and daughter are away on vacation.”

“Aren’t there any security cameras?” asked Yuuri, finally able to form a logical sentence.

“Ah, there’s only the camera at the front and back gate. This neighbourhood is full of rich people so the security is generally tight, and normally there would always be someone around the house, except for yesterday. The housekeeper said Shimizu-san had sent everyone home for the night, which was unusual, according to her.”

“And those cameras didn’t show anything suspicious?”

“Our team is working on that, but we haven’t found anything yet. After Shimizu-san had sent his staff away yesterday, no one entered or left the house. So far, it really looks more like an accident than a murder.”

Yuuri fidgeted with the zip of his blue jacket, looking down at his feet. He felt like he should say something encouraging, something helpful, to somehow save the situation, but his brain refused to cooperate. Self-pity was clogging his throat; he was such an excuse for a journalist, he should have realized that he would fail eventually, and here it was... no, stop right there! It would help no one if he went into panic mode now. There was enough time for self-flagellation later.

“I shouldn’t keep you up any longer, “Yuuri said. “Thank you, Morooka-san. I appreciate very much that you let me in.” Morooka nodded.

“I’m doing a press conference in three hours or so; if we won’t find the animal until then, I’m afraid I’ll have to warn the people that there might be a dangerous predator roaming free.  
“Let’s hope we’ll find out until then what kind of animal it was, otherwise the press will tear me apart – no offense.” Morooka massaged his temples. “And perhaps someone will have seen something that could help us.”

“Am I allowed to write a short article for our online site about what you’ve told me, Morooka-san?” Yuuri asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” Morooka said. “I’d rather you report it than some butcher with a tabloid.”

Yuuri thanked again but before he could take leave, Morooka’s phone rang. He picked it up. “Moshi moshi, Amano-san.. .ok... hold on,” Morooka waved at Yuuri who was about to exit the kitchen through the door they got in.

“Leave through here,” the detective told Yuuri, pointing towards far end of the room, at a door that had escaped Yuuri’s attention. “It goes into the back yard. If you follow the trail it’ll lead you to the back gate. I’ll let officer Honda know to let you out.”

At Yuuri’s puzzled look he explained. “He’s guarding the gate. Some jerks had tried to sneak in to take some photos,” he said, firing a short text to his colleague and waving Yuuri goodbye. “That way you can avoid the vultures in front.

“Back here, Amano. As I said..”

Yuuri exited the door, feeling quite wobbly. His mind was in uproar: half of his brain was still shocked by the information, the other half was already composing the article for the online news. He was following the trail as instructed, the utilitarian metal back gate already visible some ten meters ahead. As he was passing by a decorative bush, his attention was caught by several tufts of yellow fur stuck on the sparsely leafed branches. He threw a quick glance back at the villa – the door was closed and there was no movement in the windows – and at the gate – the officer had his back to him – and before he could think twice about it he took a couple of photos of the bush, snatched one of the hair clumps and stuffed it into his jacket.  
He had just tucked away his phone when the officer turned, raising an eyebrow at him. Yuuri tried to put up a smile on his face as he approached the gate.

“I’m the journalist Katsuki, detective Morooka notified you about me earlier,” he told the man. The officer just gave him a curt nod and a grunt, opening the gate and letting Yuuri out, waving him away.

Yuuri thanked him and scurried before he completely lost his nerve. His heart was beating like mad, and this time it was not from physical exercise. He only took one piece of hair, there were still several left on the bush, he reasoned with himself, trying not to freak out about what he did. And taking photos hurt nobody; it wasn’t not like the rest of the fur would disappear. He just had a feeling there was something more to this case, that it was not just a simple accident with an enraged, dangerous animal.

There were approximately three hours until the press conference; more than enough to write the article for the news. But he needed to calm down a bit. It was almost noon, so lunch first. He didn’t manage to finish his breakfast, having been interrupted by Katou-san’s call, and who was he kidding, he could always think better when his stomach was full. But before he could text Phichit when and where to pick him up, he was approached by a tall man in tight cut jeans and a dark red blazer. “Katsooki! Just the man I need!”

Yuuri groaned. Depend on “JJ”, as he liked to call himself, to come snooping around the back. Yuuri didn’t stop, murmuring about being in a hurry, and continued walking briskly towards the metro station. But the Canadian was not so easily deterred. He latched onto Yuuri’s shoulders with his arm, easily keeping pace with the shorter man, and gave him a blinding smile. “The man with the right connections, as I’ve found out,” he soldiered on. He shook Yuuri shoulder, causing the Japanese man to stumble a bit. “So what have we learned from the nice officer?”

Yuuri pushed up his glasses and tried to shrug him off, but he held on like a leech. “The nice officer is giving a press conference in a couple of hours, as I’m sure you know, you’ll find out the details there.”

“Oh, yes, the conference, of course,” Leroy waved dismissively. “But he told YOU something more, didn’t he?” he pressed on.

Yuuri gulped; the man’s insistence and proximity was making him more than uncomfortable. But he wasn’t going give in.

“I’m sorry, Leroy, I can’t tell you anything else. You can read it in about in the Tokyo Metropolitan online news.”

The other man frowned at him, but when Yuuri finally managed to dislodge his arm and bolt down the metro entrance, he was relieved to see that Leroy didn’t follow him. Instead, he shouted after him. “Damit, Yuuri, where is your collegiality?” Yuuri just shrugged and hurried down.

He messaged Phichit while he rode the Hibiya line to pick him up in an hour and a half in Maruyama Coffee where he was headed. He ordered a sandwich and green tea and wrote the draft while he gobbled down the food, edited the article and sent it to Leo for the English correction. With that out of the way, this part of his task was finished as Leo was also the one responsible for updating the news on their online page.

There were still 15 minutes left until Phichit picked him up, so he bought a cookie and pulled out his notebook to jot down a quick mind-map about what he had learned and how his situation had changed after Shimizu’s death. It was surely a set-back. He pulled out the tuft of hair to scrutinize it more closely. It was composed of yellowish, coarse long hairs, and shorter, softer hair – undoubtedly animal fur. A portion of the longer hairs seemed brown – perhaps the animal was spotted? At a sudden impulse, he held the clump up to his nose; it smelled just like the incense in the villa without a hint of any animal smell, as far as his nose could tell. He was not a specialist by far, but he knew this was rather strange.

Yuuri bit the end of his pencil, thinking. If it was indeed an animal that had killed the politician inside his own house, it had to be something larger. He must have purchased it recently, or kept it a secret, because Yuuri hadn’t come across any mention of an exotic beast in his investigations. Also, Yuuri hadn’t asked about any pets specifically, as it didn’t have any direct connection to the corruption case. But he could ask Katou-san now; surely the woman would have noticed a new pet in the house. He pulled out his phone.

Katou-san sounded a bit annoyed when she answered; Yuuri could imagine she’d been interrogated quite a bit by the police since her employer’s death. But she was forward enough when he mentioned the pet.

“Funny you ask about it,” she said, “the detective asked me the same question.” She sighed. “Anyway, I’m afraid I won’t be of much help. Indeed, Shimizu-san did purchase a pet recently – a cat.”

Yuuri frowned. “A cat? Like, a normal house cat?”

“Well, whether it was normal or not, I don’t know, but it sure looked just like any other cat. Although I only ever saw it once. Shimizu-san kept it in his study, gave it food himself, and he didn’t even let his wife or daughter spend time alone with the thing. I imagine it was a very expensive breed, with papers and whatnot. If you ask me, Shimizu-san didn’t know what to do with his money anymore.”

“Hn,” Yuuri hummed, thinking hard. “You don’t know perchance where he purchased the cat?”

“Not exactly, but I think I’ve heard him mentioning a new pet shop in Shin Okubo, in the Korean district. Owned by some Russians, which sounds suspicious enough if you ask me. I’ve told detective Morooka the same. Look, Katsuki-kun, you’re a good kid, but I don’t want to get into any trouble. “

“No, of course not,” Yuuri assured her quickly. “I’m incredibly thankful to you anyway, Katou-san. You’ve helped me a lot already. Thank you.”

“Well, yeah. I’m sorry it had ended like this. You could get in touch with the young lady, but listen, you’re a decent one, not like those bloodhounds with cameras, and regardless of how Shimizu-san was, he was her father and she deserves some peace. Anyway, I’m out. I’m sorry. It might not be a murder, but it was not a nice way to go, and there’s something wrong in the house. It’s been like that for a while now, and I’ve had enough. I’ve handed in my notice so I won’t be able to help you any more. I hope you can understand.”

“Absolutely,” Yuuri put on his empathetic voice. He was disappointed, of course, but he really did understand; Katou-san had put herself in danger enough as it was already with agreeing to be his informant. The loss of an inside contact would be sorely felt, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Thank you for taking care of me up until now.”  
“You’re welcome. I wish you good luck with your investigation.”

 

The afternoon went by quickly. He updated Pichit while the other ate his lunch. When they stopped for a moment in their office, they found it in a chaos: it was assaulted by calls as soon as Yuuri’s article went up, reporters from other newspapers demanding to know where he got the information. Yuuri was glad he wasn’t the one who had to deal with them. He left Phichit to help his colleagues while he rushed to the press conference, where detective Morooka confessed that yes, assemblyman Simizu was not murdered but killed in a freak accident, by some kind of animal, but that they still haven’t been able to determine the exact species of the predator, nor did they manage to catch the escaped culprit. The only thing they knew was that it was a relatively large, feline predator, probably the size of a leopard, with yellow fur and brown markings. He advised the broader public to be aware of the danger and not hesitate to call the police in case they spotted anything suspicious. The SIT team and the police department were working on the case with priority. Then he started taking questions, gave the press free for questions, all hell broke loose.

Yuuri didn’t have any new questions, so he left the press room, and together with his photographer Emil they returned back to their offices, where Yuuri updated the news about the press conference. He declined to join the team outing after work, going instead to Shinjuku. First he stopped at a curry place as his stomach started growling with hunger, where he researched the Russian shop. He wasn’t very successful at first; he’d almost given up when he stumbled upon the information he needed on an obscure blog.

Despite knowing the address, Yuuri had spent almost another hour wandering around the streets of Shin Okubo, dodging the hurrying people, before he finally found it. There it was, tucked away in an unassuming alley half clogged with old furniture and large flower pots. The shop’s presence was advertised only by an old-fashioned sign, swinging gently in the afternoon breeze, reading in English “Count V’s Pet Shop”.

What a strange name, thought Yuuri. He knew he’d found the right place when he stopped in front of the entrance. He could hear loud shouting from inside; two male voices, one older and a younger one. Yuuri only knew enough Russian to recognize it as such, but not to understand what they were shouting. He took another look at the shop; the front was very simple, with the show windows featuring only empty cages and animal toys; really, the only extravagant thing was the shield.

Yuuri’s stomach clenched with nervousness as always when he was investigating strangers. Especially if said strangers were in a shouting match. Should he wait…? But he was exhausted as it was; he only wanted to ask a couple of questions and then go home, take a shower and curl up on the couch to wait until Phichit returned, and watch a film or something. He took a steadying breath and pushed the door inside. His entrance was announced by a chime of bells hung above the door, which also alerted the shouting party: an old, balding man in a brown apron, glaring at a young boy of 16 or so, who stood in a defensive stance, shoulders hunched forward and fists balled tight at his sides. The boy sported a bob of yellow hair and wore a leopard-print jacket. For some reason, Yuuri found this detail striking, and filed it away for later scrutiny.

“Sorry for interrupting, but the sign read open,” he said timidly, pushing his glasses up his nose and blinking a couple of times when a pair of heavy gazes landed on his person. He was still unsure whether he should stay or bolt, especially when the boy scowled even deeper and visibly bristled. He spat something at the old man that sounded very much like a curse and hurtled towards the exit, smacking into Yuuri’s shoulder in the process. Yuuri jolted, less from the impact and more from surprise – the boy carried a whiff of the same incense as the clump of the animal fur.

“Yura!” the old man called after the boy but he was too late. The empty door was slowly swinging closed after the youth’s stormy exit, finally clicking shut with a gentle tinkle of the bells.  
The old man sighed, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry about that. Don’t mind him, he’ll come around,” the man said in heavy but understandable Japanese. “I’m Yakov, the manager of this shop. How can I help you?”

Yuuri looked around, taking in his surroundings properly for the first time. The shop looked more like a pet store from the inside; there were cages with various smaller animals all around and now, when the humans were not shouting any more, the animal chatter was slowly filling up the air again. Yuuri saw large transparent boxes on the ground that contained crawling, mewing kittens and yipping puppies, high cages with various kinds of birds and on the shelves several terraria with lizards. There was even a huge cage full of hamsters; a chuckle escaped Yuuri when he spotted them – he had to bring Phichit here someday. Yuuri didn’t see any illegal animal at the first glance, but then again, they wouldn’t be exhibited openly like that.

“Um, I would like to ask you a couple of questions, if you don’t mind,” Yuuri said, turning back to face the man again. “About, um, a recent purchase by...”

“If it’s about that politician who was murdered, I’m afraid I have to stop you right there. I’ve been already questioned by the police,” Yakov’s tone suddenly didn’t sound friendly. “And you’re not police, right? What do you want? Are you a journalist? If so, go hunt sensation somewhere else and leave this shop to run its business in peace.”

“My name is Katsuki Yuuri, and yes, I’m a journalist.” Yuuri pulled out his credentials to show them to Yakov. His hand trembled a bit and he almost hit the old man in the nose. “I um… I’m not here to hunt sensation. Um,” Yuuri trailed off under the man’s frown, snatching his hand back and clutching it with his other in front of him.

But the old man was looking unimpressed. “Our policy is not to give out information about customers.”

“Yes, I understand, but if you could just...”

“Yakov,” a new, sing-song voice drawled from the back of the room in English. “I think I’ll speak with the young man.”

Yuuri glanced towards the voice and felt his jaw drop. In the doorway there stood the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life. He was tall and slender, with a willowy but firm frame. His torso was curled in a graceful curve, with one shoulder leaning on the door jamb, his opposite hip thrust forward just so. The faded green yukata he wore fell open in the front, exposing his clear cut collar bones and half of his chiselled chest all the way down to his well-defined abs. The only thing that held the déshabillé ensemble together, preventing a total exposure, was a low sitting, haphazardly bound yellow-golden obi. Did he greet all of the customers in such a bizarre manner? Yuuri felt his face burn up with second-hand embarrassment. With half of his front hanging out of his clothes, it would have been worse only if the man were completely naked.

Contrary to his indecent clothes, half of the man’s face was taken up with the most ridiculous, yet oddly merry, heart shaped smile. Despite his obvious youth, his hair was so light as to look silver and framed his face in two long strands that reached his midsection. Then Yuuri’s gaze wandered yet upward and he was arrested by a pair of the bluest eyes he had ever seen. They were impossibly blue. Sky blue. Ocean blue. Scratch that, they were cerulean – if there ever was an occasion that would justify using such a ludicrous word it was definitely this. Fuck my life, Yuuri thought.

“Vitya,” the old man sighed.

Yuuri started, realizing something. “You’re Count V?”

The man chuckled. “No, I’m his grandson. But I believe I can give you the answer you’re looking for,” he said, stretching his hand out towards Yuuri, and winked.

**Author's Note:**

> [Link to the Illustration ^V^](http://dreamaginarium.tumblr.com/post/168196530221/vs-pet-shop-of-horrors-yuuri-katsuki-is-a)
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated!


End file.
